


Still watching for signs

by risinggreatness



Series: Circle 'round the sun [69]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:12:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risinggreatness/pseuds/risinggreatness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even with the boundaries they’ve put up, Anakin and Padmé can’t help feeling something for each other</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still watching for signs

Anakin knocks on the senator’s door, stomach flipping almost to nausea.

He’s still dazed she would remember him, remember the promise to talk with him about abolishing slavery.

Maybe politicians aren’t as bad as he thought.

“Come in,” he hears from the other side of the door. When he enters, he sees her flurrying around the office, managing stacks of datapads. He stays close to the door, ready to escape, should she send him away.

His mouth is dry but he remembers his manners, “Thank you for seeing me Senator Amidala.”

The senator stops walking about, settling at her desk, beckoning him to come forward.

“Please, call me Padmé, Padawan Skywalker. Sit, make yourself comfortable.”

“Just Anakin then,” he corrects, eased by her manner, but still glad for a massive desk between them. ( _He can’t get too close, can’t let her see how enraptured he is already._ )

She smiles, “Alright, Anakin.”

Though he considers himself long past childhood, her simply saying his name inflates him with the pride of a child being praised for a task. ( _Gods, he wants to kick himself in the ass._ )

She continues, “I’m surprised you have a strong interest in our efforts to abolish slavery in the galaxy. So few Jedi involve themselves in politics, although it would be a great deal of help if they did on certain issues.”

It hits Anakin: Obi-Wan may have deliberately taken him to the meeting in the first place for the purpose of showing him people do care about ending slavery. He’s been too blindsided by Padmé to realize it.

He must have frozen in thought too long, because Padmé prompts him to speak, not unkindly, but slowly, as if reawakening him, “I understand you’ve come into Jedi training later than most. What peaked your interest in abolishing slavery? I imagine it wasn’t the Jedi.”

Anakin shakes his head. Obi-Wan and the Council know he was a slave, but they don’t know how he fights against it in himself every day.

And with the blinding trust of a sixteen year-old boy smacked with first love ( _though he will come to recognize what he first felt for Padmé was not love – not yet_ ), he confesses, tells her all that he did not tell the Council, could not tell Master Jinn, cannot tell Obi-Wan.

“I was a slave growing up on Tatooine. Ending slavery is something I’ve always wanted to make happen.”

She is sympathetic, but she cannot understand, “Were your mother and father slaves as well?”

Though his mother never said a word about a father, Anakin figured out young enough what his father was. And a slave was not one of them.

Anakin swallows, trying desperately to keep from clenching his teeth, “My mom was – she isn’t anymore. She’s still on Tatooine though, living with my stepfather and his son. I was there until Master Jinn found me, told me I could become a Jedi.”

He laughs in spite of himself, “I was so glad to see that rock disappear behind me.”

Padmé looks at him with a sad sort of pity he wishes she wouldn’t.

“It’s very fortunate you and your mother weren’t separated. I hear so many stories about families that were divided –”

“It wasn’t luck,” he cuts in. He doesn’t know how to explain what he did to her. As a child, he didn’t comprehend the preternatural power he had to force slavers to buy both him and his mother.

Now he does: the Force. Only he doesn’t know if Padmé, intelligent as she is, will understand.

She nods slowly, and asks the question that nags at him every day.

“Would you ever go back to see your mother again?”

If only he could. He would go back and save her from the place that held them captive for so long, but she would not come with him. His hatred of Tatooine is stronger.

Besides, even if he did, the Jedi don’t approve of attachment, stupid as Anakin thinks it is. ( _Maybe it would be for the best. Un-Jedi-like as it is, Anakin would seek those who held and hurt him and his mother. He’d do something wrong._ )

Anakin shakes his head, giving Padmé only the short answer.

“No.”

Padmé is different. Obi-Wan treats Anakin’s former life as a slave as the past. He doesn’t understand there are times Anakin still lives it; in her own way, his mom does too. Master Jinn was the same.

Feeling self-conscious that they’ve only spoken of him ( _forgetting it was the reason she invited him the first place_ ), he has to ask about her life.

“Where are you from, why did you become a senator?”

( _Why do you care about me? Why do you make me feel everything I’ve felt?_ )

She must see, despite his willingness to answer questions, he is uncomfortable, and takes his questions in stride.

“Naboo. It’s a little place, practically in the Outer Rim. It’s the most beautiful system in the galaxy, if I do say so myself.”

She laughs a little bit, and it makes Anakin smile.

“As for becoming a senator, it’s mostly because of my father, I suppose. He always talked of running, but never did. I felt I had to do it for him, after he and my mother died.”

Anakin considers himself an orphan of sorts; Padmé truly is. He reaches across the desk for her hand, to lend what support he can. The flicker of surprise in her face leaves quickly, accepting her hand in his. ( _Small and delicate, but firm. He is embarrassed by how clumsy and calloused his own are._ )

Possibly to herself, she says, “And although I love Naboo dearly, I suppose I always thought I was meant for something bigger than it.”

Anakin knows exactly what she means.

\----------

It is the first time they argue about something. Anakin is surprised it could even happen. What bothers him most is Padmé doesn’t believe the Chancellor is interested in ending slavery.

She sucks in air sharply; clearly incredulous the Chancellor would make such promises to _him_ and not to the men and women who serve in the senate. Anakin’s not wholly convinced himself, but the Chancellor surely is more likely to be able to put a stop to slavery than a single senator, or even a collection of them.

And besides, the Chancellor asked for his help. There are few things Anakin wants more than to take down the whole wretched thing himself.

“Whatever you say, Senator,” he says, their rapport forgotten. It’s safer behind titles and formality. It is not a position Anakin cares for, but he needs the reminder.

“She doesn’t care for you that way,” the voice in his head tells him. Why should she? They don’t agree there may be another way to end slavery, and he’s not free to think or feel about her anyway.

She has no reason to care about him.

“I’m sorry, Anakin,” Padmé apologizes as he leaves.

He exhales, shoulders slumping forward.

They may still be friends, but he will need all the bravado Obi-Wan hates to protect himself from further heartbreak where Padmé is concerned.

\----------

Padmé’s silhouette gone and Yularen’s grumbling on the far side of the hanger, Anakin slumps back against the shuttle.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this.

When they took off, Padmé’s heart was beating so fast, he could sense it past his own excitement, even at a distance. ( _Not close and confined like they were under the ship._ )

It could have been the thrill of flying – he knows the feeling, but deep down, he senses it was something else.

He’s going to have to be even more resolute, braver now, knowing she feels the same.

Frustrated, he smacks the back of his head against the shuttle. The thunk makes him see stars and not quite hear the snickering beeps at his knee.

“Shut up, R2.”

\----------

The tea Padmé set down in front of Anakin remains untouched. He doesn’t lean back in the seat like he usually does, but rather seems to be pulling himself into the smallest space possible.

Though Padmé expected him to come by her office upon his return from the front, she hadn’t expected him this early in the morning. Nor for him to be this quiet.

She needs to pick up the datapads before her; she needs to go to Anakin and put a hand to his shoulder to wake him. She digs her fingers into the edge of the sofa instead.

“I don’t know what happened,” he says to her, to nothing.

“What’s happened?” she asks, though he will be unable to answer it for either of them.

“It’s like the only thing that made sense in my life is missing.” His eyebrows stitch together, “I’m not happy and I don’t know why.”

“Oh Anakin, everyone feels that way sometimes,” she thinks, but it sounds patronizing in her head. She remains silent.

It is hard to argue Anakin is ‘missing’ from her life. As good friends as they are, there is a keen sense of something wanting between them.

Sometimes she swears he feels the same. Sometimes she swears he doesn’t.

And besides, he isn’t talking about them, whatever abstract fantasy they are in her head.

If it were Obi-Wan grieving across from her, Padmé would reach across, hold his hands until they stopped shaking, put an arm around his shoulder until he could think clearly again.

All she can do with Anakin is flex her fingers. He used to be free with affection; perhaps he finally is closing off to her, Jedi training sinking in.

“Whatever it is, Anakin, I know what it feels like to lose something dear to you. I hope you find it again someday.”

She misses him, but the boundaries they have built must be kept.

\----------

Their last meeting was not happy, and with Anakin leaving for the front of an undeclared war again, Padmé does not want the possible last memory of meeting in their friendship to be that.

She feels somewhat foolish ducking around the ships and the sea of clone troopers in the docking bay, but Obi-Wan’s made it abundantly clear how the Order disapproves of friendships outside of the Jedi and she will not have the cluster Anakin is with now notice her.

Thankfully, Anakin catches her out of the corner of his eye, so she will not have to resort to more sneaking around. No one seems to notice that he keeps glancing past Master Windu’s shoulder to her.

When they split off in separate directions to different ships, he comes straight to her.

“Come to see me off?” he teases. There are dark circles under his eyes.

“Who else would I come for?” she teases back, but her voice sounds like it wavers to her.

He crosses his arms across his chest, holds her gaze for a few seconds then stares at his boots. Without the direct eye contact, she finds the courage to say what she means to say.

“I pray for you when you leave for the front.”

His head snaps up.

“And Obi-Wan,” she quickly covers. “It’s only going to get worse from here on out – for both of you.”

He goes back to staring at his boots and shrugs, “It’s necessary.”

It is not the time for debating the endless confusion over the necessity of this war, but Padmé doesn’t stop herself.

“It is… and it isn’t,” she says simply.

“I don’t like all these contractions,” Anakin says tersely, a frown across his face.

“Neither do I,” Padmé says quietly.

They stand in silence for a moment; Anakin uncrosses his arms. One hand seems to jerk forward, as if he is going to shake Padmé’s hand; both arms remain limp at his sides.

“I’ll see you when I get back,” he says finally.

“I’d like that,” she confesses, though she’s sure he must know it already.

She watches his retreating back and manages a tiny wave when he looks back at her, just as his ship launches off into the sky.

\----------

There are days Padmé regrets having advocated so strongly for the war against the Separatists. “Who is to say if they need to stay with the Republic?” Bail asks. Despite prevailing attitudes on Naboo, Padmé still feels she cannot be disloyal to her father’s legacy.

When Anakin and Obi-Wan speak, without malice, of how spread thinly the Jedi and the clone troops are, Padmé goes back to the drawing board.

There will be a way to end this war someday soon.

Anakin laughs and shrugs as they walk towards the Senate Building, “Don’t take it so personally. We all have mistakes in judgment sometimes.”

“Easy for you to be glib about it. You’re not the general, Obi-Wan is.”

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t mind being one. But the Council doesn’t think I have enough experience yet.”

Before Padmé can respond, there is the echoing sound of blaster fire and nearby shouts and screams. It is like the very air around Padmé tenses, a layer that is at once protective and highly dangerous.

It takes her a moment to realize Anakin has drawn his lightsaber and is standing between her and the direction of the sound. In the years she has known him, she cannot remember him towering over her like this.

Sometimes, Obi-Wan speaks of Anakin as being one of the strongest Force-wielders he’s ever met ( _a feat, knowing Master Yoda!_ ); she understands Obi-Wan’s astonishment now.

“What’s happening?” she asks.

“I have no idea. Come on, let’s get inside.”

They both shake; neither reaches for the other.

Secure in her office, they both receive calls on their holos: Obi-Wan for Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine for Padmé.

“I hope you are safe, Senator Amidala. I’d like you to report to my office if you are able.”

“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Anakin tells her.

She doesn’t know how to tell him not to; she nods instead.

The Chancellor’s office is a madhouse; over a dozen senators yelling at him for answers. Padmé finds an opening in the crowd next to Bail.

Chancellor Palpatine finally settles the raucous and frightened group, “There was an attempt on Senator Burtoni’s life just moments ago. This proves to me that our senators are not adequately safe on Coruscant for the time being. As such, I have deemed all present to be critical to the war effort and would like you to return to your home systems until it is more secure here.”

A second assault of questions is launched at the Chancellor. Bail sighs next to Padmé, “Well, I suppose it’s as good a reason as any to see Breha again.”

Padmé does not relish the idea of going home to Naboo, not now. There’s too much to be done on Coruscant. Going home would stall her work and distract her.

“How can you guarantee we’ll be safe on our own systems, Chancellor?” asks Senator Baab.

“I have spoken with the Master of the Jedi Order – you will be assigned Jedi who are not already commanding our troops.”

Oh gods, just what she needs: another Jedi friend.

Returned to her office, Padmé slowly moves about, gathering her things and wondering how to make her journey home productive.

The day has been too long and she is tired.

Her holo on her desk blinks on; Anakin on the other end.

“Sorry I haven’t made it back yet.”

His voice sounds weakly strangled, a distortion Padmé is sure isn’t a mechanical issue with the holo, “I’ve just been assigned to escort you to Naboo and stay on as security for a while.”

Padmé’s heart beats almost as fast as it did when the blaster was fired earlier.

“Well, you’ll be able to see how beautiful Naboo is for yourself,” she manages.

“I never doubted you.”

\----------

For the first time in nearly a year, Padmé reenters her parents’ – her – home.

Anakin is close behind. He’s ready to protect her from anything that might come for her.

Can he protect her from herself?

\----------

They say their goodnights; her door closes in front of him.

Anakin goes to the dark room he will occupy, crashing onto the bed in frustration.

There is only a wall between them. It feels like the furthest distance he has ever been from her.

**Author's Note:**

> See author bio for discussion on this 'verse.


End file.
